The Unwanted, The Unattainable
by style xx
Summary: DISCONTINUED Pregame. Another oh so original story set in the SOLDIER training grounds. But let's not get carried away here...Sepiroth is never attracted to a lowly grunt at first. [SephCloud]
1. Warm Welcome

o.o I know what you're thinking.

"Oh, Hyne. Not another 'SOLDIER-Camp' story!"

Ehehehe. I suppose you could batter me for being horribly unoriginal, but I'm at least trying to avoid some of the clichés I have seen in most of these Pre-game SxC stories. Let's say, I stick Cloud in the training camp like everyone else, but, I don't give him friends, I don't give him unusual strength, and I don't make any higher ranks notice him more than they do others coughSepirothcough. Maybe I'm writing this just for the sake of torturing Cloud.

You can decide for yourself. :D

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, nor do I make any profit from any of these works. The characters belong to Square-Soft and Nintendo, respectively.

PLEASE NOTE: I have, in my life, never touched, never seen, and certainly never played FF7. The closest thing I have to that is having once (attempted to) read the entire game script over the span of 3 hours, so please be understanding if I clash with the storyline. Game scripts are, as I learned the hard way, much harder to understand/get into than the actual game. If I end up REALLY killing the correct line of story, then just consider this an AU and kindly shut up. ;

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"_**L**ook at our captain's luck—so loved by the world, so prized at every landfall, every port of call."_

_-_The Odyssey; (10, 42)

* * *

The Unwanted, the Unattainable

The whole atmosphere surrounding the mass of buildings held, in itself, promises of an unpleasant future. The sky was not blue, but gray; the grass, not green, but dry brown; the bricks of the buildings not red, but a dismal, washed-out yellow.

Even his wheat-blonde hair looked brown in the dirty, filtered sunlight. At least, he reassured himself and his disheartened drive, the other boys heading in the same direction as he was looked as uncertain and scared as he felt. For the sake of maintaining an image, however, he kept his eyes mostly to himself.

The mess hall, to where all the young men had made their way, beheld row upon row of empty seats. It was very large, but strangely, as Cloud found it, claustrophobic at the same time. Cold fear seemed to radiate from the old cemented walls. Cloud wondered, lagging behind most of the other boys curiously, if all the rooms in the camp were like this. He hoped not. It wasn't particularly gloomy, per se, but it was certainly imposing.

It was still early afternoon, so, as Cloud had expected, no food was out or looked about to be served. He nearly groaned at his empty stomach (he hadn't pushed and shoved enough to get food on the way there before it had all run out) but willed himself to remain stoic. He sat himself at the end of one of the rows near the front; nobody had taken any chairs near the area quite yet.

Slowly, and as expected (but hoped against,) the seats near Cloud began to fill up. Each boy looked more disappointed than the next; secluded seats were becoming less and less likely to find. Thus, reluctant boys, finding themselves in a discomfort similar to Cloud's, sat near and around him (there among other places.)

Most of the boys around him looked one of either: extremely irate, or positively mortified. This led Cloud to wonder just how many of the others in his presence actually came to attend the camp of their own will; he guessed that most of those around him had been forced to come either as a disciplinary action or because their families believed that they simply had nothing else they could do with their lives.

His pointless curiosities were abruptly interrupted by the screech of a microphone. The large hall's anxious disarray settled like dust, and Cloud's attention was drawn to the front of the room, where a stately, heavy-set man in a suit came up to speak. Not particularly feeling any desire to give his attention to the swinish man but not having anything else to occupy himself with, Cloud willed his face to remain still as he listened in.

"Rrh-hemm." The man cleared his throat a bit too far into the microphone, and Cloud, among others, winced, all of them regretting their open displays of emotion immediately. The man looked up apologetically, straightening his tie.

"Hello. I would like to officially welcome all of you to the first day of the rest of your lives. We in Shin-Ra are very proud of everything we offer; every last thing that comes out with our name, we pride in truly being the best, and SOLDIER is no exception. It is our goal and duty, as the largest name in Midgar, to provide the most elite products of their kind..."

Cloud's eyelids were already starting to feel heavy. He knew he really should have already expected from Shin-Ra this sort of self-inflating speech, sounding as if stolen straight off of their marketing lines. He leaned his elbows down on his thighs and sighed soundlessly. Honestly, didn't they believe that Cloud and every other system in the room had already gotten this message clear across? After all, it was outlined in bold, stand-out-ish ink; adorning every last spot of unused space on the pamphlet.

After a torturously long speech and multitudes of many others of the like, Cloud lifted his gaze and saw that beside the Shin-Ra man now stood a variety of, in his opinion, rather influential-looking people. Cloud's gaze lingered on a very serious-looking long-and-dark-haired man in a blue suit, before he noticed someone else stand. The next that came up to speak was another man with dark hair, though his was not even an eighth as tame as the blue-suit's. He was a rather young, off-the-rails man who seemed to possess a greater livelihood than Cloud and all the others put together ever had. The man grinned down wolfishly into the mic.

"Well, everyone, I just hope you're all ready to have your asses worked to the bone! Remember, it's no skin off our back if we have to take it off of yours! What do you say? You all look like a rowdy bunch!"

He laughed loudly, as if he cared not that he was thoroughly embarrassing himself in front of a group of, frankly, direly humorless and mortified young men. Quickly, the Shin-Ra man, as Cloud regarded him, rubbed his forehead and pulled the dark-haired young man away from the mic before he had a chance to do more damage. Cloud watched, curious, as the Shin-Ra man frowned and said something to the other under his breath. The dark-haired one grinned, more sheepishly this time, and nodded as he took his seat. Shin-Ra man came back up to the microphone.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "Thank you for that, Zack. Now, for a few brief words before we send you off to get acquainted with your new surroundings, here is the much-admired General that I know you've all been beside yourselves to see."

Cloud finally looked away from the crazy, dark-haired man, now known as Zack; interest piqued yet again. He must have been referring to General Sepiroth. Cloud didn't know much about the general, other than that he was...well, famous. As ridiculous as it might have sounded, it was yet true, and he found himself more and more interested in the identity of this evasive "God" as the stagnant air around him seemed to stiffen with the first real group anticipation that he had felt the entire time he'd been seated there.

Realization struck Cloud when a very tall, lean figure stood at the cue. At first, he had to stifle a laugh at the initial image he got of Sepiroth right then. He found it hard to believe—that was a man? Not only a man, but the "Great General Sepiroth?" In all honesty, he'd first thought that the lovely General who had been seated there was the Shin-Ra man's wife. Cloud smiled to himself, but briefly. It was a laughable moment, but only a moment indeed; as the General took the stand, suddenly Cloud felt himself overcome by an air of intimidation.

"As always, it is a pleasure and honor to greet our new recruits. I would only like to remind you all that this is an institution very strict in its basis, and that there are no short-cuts in these walks. You may readily expect that insubordination will be dealt with in very fine measure..."

From his seat, Cloud could very well see and feel the power radiating from the tall frame of the man standing before them. His voice, a rich, deep, agreeable sound, was calm, controlled; and yet, the most unnerving that Cloud had ever heard. His intense aqua-green eyes were reminiscent of an ocean set on fire, and they were set in a gaze so firm, so adjusted, and so incredibly commanding that Cloud swore he could feel himself grow dizzy.

He, like so many others around him, felt suffocated by the raw power and influences this man before them held. How anyone could carry himself with such ease of grace was beyond Cloud, but, if there was one thing he understood at that point, it was: this General, this Sepiroth...he was evidently not only skilled in fighting and faring the battle field; he also had a certain air about him that made him just the slightest length more imposing. Cloud, at that moment, felt prematurely sympathetic to anyone who would be so unlucky to cross this General in their lifetime.

Unlike when the other men had been asked away from the mic, Sepiroth found a perfect place to cease his speaking on his own and dismissed himself in due grace. Cloud turned to look at the other boys sitting in audience of this great figure; they all looked equally as drawn and taken as he had been. The unpleasant growling sound of Shin-Ra man clearing his throat into the microphone again brought many out of their awed reverie. So he spoke:

"Wonderful, then. This part is really quite easy, now; the first letter of your room number is the floor you're on. You'll be sharing with one roommate, but I trust you've been over this already, so I won't continue on it..."

The Shin-Ra man paused and laughed, though it sounded more, to Cloud, like a choking fit. He couldn't help himself from wondering what Sepiroth's laugh sounded like, then; he realized of himself then that he really had been impacted by the silver General.

"Now, you are all dismissed. We'll see you in training grounds tomorrow! ...For heavens' sake, Zack, sit up properly for once-"

The man paused again. Cloud suspected that Shin-Ra man's last line hadn't been intended for the microphone, and he raised an eyebrow before lifting himself out of his seat like most of the boys had already done.

Then he stopped himself. He didn't have a room number. Were they going to be giving them out right then? Gripping his small bag anxiously, Cloud glanced around and saw that most of the new boys already were looking over very similar-looking pieces of papers. He looked around again in hopes of locating anyone who could help him. Finally, his gaze settled on the dark-haired Zack, and he had to argue with himself over whether or not to attempt the tall, well-muscled man.

Timid as he was, Cloud decided that Zack seemed, up until that point, approachable enough, so he made his slow way over to him through the disintegrating crowd of boys, not one of them noticing Cloud's situation or offering help.

"Ex-Excuse..." Cloud found he couldn't even finish the simple phrase. He was only glad that Sepiroth had left already (he was a very busy man, after all,) and that Zack was the only one left in the huge, cool mess hall, leaning down to examine something in the table's wooden side. Otherwise, mused, he might have gone lightheaded. The backs of his thighs were already shaking.

"Eh?" Zack looked up and turned his head slightly, then frowned. "What do you want?" So asked he; tone somewhat flat.

Cloud swallowed and looked away. Perhaps Zack wasn't as friendly as he had first assumed. Thoughts following back to Sepiroth again, Cloud wondered how hard it would be to approach the General, especially if he was finding it difficult speaking to whom he assumed was the training camp's scapegoat and clown.

"I'm sorry, I..." Cloud's lip stiffened and he willed himself to act indifferent. "I don't have a room. ...S-Sir." He wasn't used to calling people Sir, and he wasn't sure if it was required. Better safe than sorry, he told himself.

Zack stared at Cloud curiously for a moment, and to the blonde's aching relief, the wild-haired man's face broke into a lopsided grin.

"Oh, okay. Cool. I was just mistakin' you were some other kid that always asks me to get him Sepiroth's undies, y'know? Keh heh heh." Zack seemed to find this amusing. Cloud, wide-eyed, absolutely did not.

"...Nnn." Cloud struggled for words. He had plenty on his mind, certainly; but nothing that he deemed proper to speak before a superior rank. People had actually...asked Zack...for underwear! (Sepiroth's, no less.) Cloud's face grew warm at the thought. He should have figured that he'd run into some slightly...queer characters, to put it so; grunt camps like this one, he knew, tended to magnetize not only to those who wished to be stronger, but also those who wanted to be around other handsome, athletic young men all day long.

Perverts.

"Whoa, kid, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to get you lookin' like that. Didn't know you go that way, too. Sorry. What's your name?"

Had he possessed more of the courageous heart to stick up for his pride, he could have. Cloud, however, was more the type to let comments like that slip and slide. So now Zack thought he was gay. Big deal; there were lots of guys like that in this place. That is what he told himself, anyway; in reality, he was just too scared to speak up and contradict Zack's assumption.

"Come on, speak up!"

"Cl—Uh...Strife, Cloud. Sir."

"Well-a then, 'Strife, Cloud, Sir,' let's go." Zack stood and clapped some dust off of his hands, offering Cloud a little grin before jerking his head in a different direction, leading off. Cloud blinked dazedly and followed after; leaving the cold, claustrophobic room for the carpeted hallway.

They got to a little office near the stairwell, and turned into it. Cloud stood aside as the wild-haired other man leaned over to speak under his breath with the woman sitting at the counter. With a slow, calculating nod at whatever it was they were talking about, she filed through some papers and pulled one out. She examined it for a moment, and then glanced at Cloud to give him a sympathetic little smile. He fidgeted, turning to absently studying all the decorations (or lack thereof) of the little office.

"Bugger of a day it's been," Zack commented randomly, though Cloud was unsure whether the man was speaking to him or just to nobody in particular. The blonde glanced over at him uncertainly before nodding slightly. Zack grinned at him, and he looked away. So he had been talking to him, after all...he really wondered why.

"Not very talkative, are you, 'Strife, Cloud, Sir?'" Zack insisted on repeating this, in his opinion, side-splitting joke. Cloud, of course, only found it to be embarrassing and even annoying. He didn't say anything, though; he just smiled awkwardly. Zack gave him a thumb-up.

"Hey, either way, it's cool. Oh. Look-a here, mate; you're not assigned to a room. Late in registry, perhaps?" Zack turned a suspicious eye on Cloud, and the blonde looked away with distinguishable chagrin. Zack could tell this one was the shy, easily embarrassed type. He smiled. This type was always fun. So very, very much fun to pick on.

"Do I have somewhere to go?" Cloud asked quietly, and, surprisingly, Zack picked up on it.

The dark-haired boy grinned in his wolfish manner, one that unnerved Cloud slightly. It was mischievous and pleasant at once, but kind of disturbing either way. How could anyone have such a fun personality in the stoic reality that was the company and SOLDIER?

"Uhhh." Cloud made absolutely sure that his uncertainty and lack of trust for this one was evident.

"Don't you worry on me; we're not here to be women." Zack reprimanded upon seeing Cloud's expression. "Look, it's not even a problem. We're just going to have to room you with some of the older kids, that's all!"

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

Brrrum-bum-bum/yawns/ What did you think of Sepiroth? XD Shin-Ra's wife, right? I tried to describe him the way I see him being. Tell me if you think it sounded right!

Sepiroth's undies...XD I'm sorry; I couldn't help myself. :3

Review, please please!


	2. Cold Stairwell

o.o

Before you say ANYTHING...just remember that I use unusual pairings! Might be some Zack/Reno just coz I can see it happening in this story. xP And don't hate me for making Reno a total jackass in this story. I love having a jackass character, and I think Reno's it for this story. :o

Btw, I have no CLUE as to the events regarding Reno's past, and his age in comparison to Cloud's, but, again, if I'm totally off, consider this AU because I do not, do not, _DO NOT_ want to be corrected or given explanations on this matter. Clear enough? xD

Disclaimer: The characters, they are pwn'd by Squaresoft, one-and-all. Ohh teh pwnage.

To reviewers: Hehe, you're all so wonderful. beams No, honestly! Seeing all of your delightful reviews makes my tummy get all tight with glee. D You guys are my entire existence, and I thank you for all of your kind comments. /bows/ Also, to the one who wanted the FF7 script (it's been so long, you probably already have it lol,) you can go to the Game FAQs site and the script is under FF7 as one of the specific FAQs.

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_**"T**he daily things that keep us all busy...are confusing me!" _

_-_KH; Simple and Clean

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The Unwanted, The Unattainable

Chapter 2

The room was even smaller than Cloud had expected. Through the narrow, whittled door, he could see it well; it held one small table and two double-bunks on either side of a window that was so small, it defeated its own purpose.

He looked around the tiny room and saw none of the mentioned "older kids," though it was apparent that somebody was presently occupying the quarter; the room was dirty, messy, cluttered, and every form of unclean that Cloud could think of. He noticed, also, that only three of the four plain, no-mattress bunks looked like they sheltered a body on a regular basis. The fourth bunk was piled over with dirty clothes, papers, worn magazines, molded...somethings, and other things that Cloud didn't recognize.

Doubtful, he turned to glance behind him, and he saw that the dark-haired Zack had made himself scarce with no word of it to Cloud. Currents of frigid, lazy air snaked around the air in both the hallway and the room, and the blonde's knees shook as his body heat left him quickly. He gripped his small bag tightly, not quite trusting the room enough to leave it there.

Cloud turned his head either way to survey the cool hallway, wondering if there might be someone to ask assistance from. Although Zack had been friendly enough to help him find this room for him, Cloud wasn't particularly...pleased with it. He didn't necessarily have the courage to complain about it directly, but, he figured, he should at least attempt to make a subtle hint that there was no possible way he could sleep in a bed that was likely housing a thousand different forms of bacteria and diseases, festered from the dirty underwear, molded food, and suspicious substances that had made their homes there.

He was a mite anal in that way, he supposed.

Pacing a small distance down the hall, Cloud came to the door that Zack had initially led him through: dirty, cracked glass in a black frame leading to the worn, cemented stairwell. Briefly, he regarded the irony of the building against the words of the Shin-Ra man—the words, as Cloud remembered, that spoke of Shin-Ra's dedication to providing everything at its best quality. Obviously, there was little care offered to the process... or perhaps the fates simply disliked Cloud. For all he knew, the actual quarters where the first years-like himself- were supposed to stay might have been top-notch quality. Apparently, though, he was stuck here.

He pushed the heavy door open and he twisted his mouth tentatively. Quick, sudden ribbons of icy air seemed to burst out of the stairwell as if they had anticipated this action. He shivered slightly and flexed his fingers around the handle of his bag, stepping into the stairwell as the heavy door fell back closed.

The stairway was positively frigid. Cloud was sure that the world outside was much warmer, too; being in the stairwell felt like being in a parking garage in the dead of night during a winter rainstorm—while wearing a suit made of ice. His handsome, boyish tan soon faded to an ill blanched violet color, and his limbs began to feel awkward and knocky.

He stumbled as he reached a small landing, and, teeth chattering, Cloud slowly sat down. He leaned against the icy cement wall and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to feel the blood run in them again.

It felt strangely cold, as if frost was forming on his brain. Soon, a frozen drowsiness hit him and his eyelids grew heavy. He tossed his bag carelessly from his lap over to his side, occupying most of the space in the small landing. Hugging his knees tighter to his chest and licking his lips once for warmth, he quickly fell into a coma-like sleep.

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

"Ah—HELL!"

A loud yelp and sudden drop of heavy weight on top of Cloud jerked him awake. With a startled gasp, his eyes snapped open and he realized, with a start, that someone had tripped on his bag and had fallen atop him. He found that his nerves seemed to have shut down to a numbing chill, and it had become difficult for him to move. He shifted his leg under the grumbling man and the man lifted himself up on his arms with a grunt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing over here? Dumb-ass!"

The hot-headed man, wearing a simple white button-down shirt (that wasn't buttoned) and black slacks, lifted his gaze to glare angrily at Cloud. Cloud stiffened nervously under the unforgiving stare and shrugged meekly. The man rolled his eyes and pulled himself up to his feet, wincing slightly and cursing aloud.

"Fuckin' loon," the man grumbled, massaging his elbow where it had hit the cold cement ground, "What kind of clown is taking a damn nap in this fuckin' icebox?"

Cloud took a long, silent breath, and slowly stood up, gripping his little bag.

"S-Sorry," he apologized, jaw still shaking slightly from the cold. The man suddenly paused and looked over at him, frowning in a slightly lopsided way. Apparently, as Cloud could tell from just seeing this man for a few minutes, there was nothing quite...even-keel about him. He seemed like an easily angered kind of guy.

"So you got your bag with you, too? What the hell are ya, a new kid? Why are you over here? Your pussy little friends dare you to come up to the older dorms? Well? Come on, answer!"

Quite impatient, too.

"No...I..." Cloud fidgeted a bit as the man stared at him harder. "...I don't really know where to go."

It was mostly the truth. Actually, as far as he was concerned, it was truth; he really didn't know where to go, considering the fact that he had rejected the original room he had been directed to. Hopefully, this strange man could help him find a different room. It was, he realized, a silly thing for him to hope; he didn't exactly seem like the kind of person that was willing to help anyone.

"What the fuck!" The man laughed and swore at the same time, which was a peculiar thing (at least, in Cloud's opinion.) "You lost or something?"

"I don't know. I mean...I don't have a room."

The man hesitated for a second, looking the way one would when cracking a joke about a friend and then pausing in the awkward silence that followed when realizing the joke was true.

"Damn, so you really are new." The man spoke after a pause, lifting a brow. Cloud nodded slowly. The man looked pensive for a moment.

"Well, you know, I can't really show you around, coz I ain't a tour guide or nothing—"

Cloud stared at him doubtfully.

"—but I s'pose I could help you out if you can wait a while."

With an odd flick of his wrist that Cloud assumed was a lazy way to say 'Follow me,' the man turned and continued ascending the stairs. The diminutive blonde followed after him obediently.

The man didn't speak a word to Cloud, but instead, was mumbling to himself about something or another. Not two minutes later, he found that he had been led back to the very same room he had just left.

Briefly wondering how anyone could be walking around in the freezing hallway with his shirt unbuttoned, Cloud looked up from the man's chest to his face, silently questioning why they had stopped in front of this particular room. The man didn't look at him, but narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the door before pulling out a key and unlocking it.

The man surveyed the inside of the room and clicked his tongue in annoyance. The blonde watched silently, wondering what he was looking for.

"If you're in here, I'm advisin' you to get your asses out..._now_ ," the man called into the cluttered room. Cloud peeked inside and saw just that: a cluttered room. Nobody was there. The man frowned fiercely.

"Well, I ain't about to bust my ass lookin' for you all, but just in case you are in here, I'll let you know: you're in deep chocobo shit!" The man growled out, giving the room one last glance before shutting the door again.

"Fuckin' juvies," he growled, and then suddenly remembered that Cloud was still there. He glanced at the puzzled blonde.

"Gotta keep the little shits in line, you know," he explained. "Guess you could say I'm the disciplinarian around these parts."

"Oh." That was the single word Cloud had spoken in fifteen minutes. Honestly, the image projected to him of this vulgar, temperamental, foot-in-mouth "disciplinarian" was all of comical to Cloud. He was starting to get the impression that Shin-Ra was all backwards; their disciplinarians went around swearing at every corner, their military generals were feminine and physically unflawed...

Suddenly, he remembered the General from the orientation meeting earlier that afternoon. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was at least vaguely intrigued by the enigmatic man. But, he told himself, wouldn't it be hard for anyone to ignore the General? He was starting to understand why Sepiroth stood out as the most popular idol for young boys. This was partly because of facts that he felt were more explicit and obvious: his absolute strength and powerful presence, for instance. But Cloud also could see him as many boys' idol because, to put it so bluntly, he was probably intensely attractive to just about any woman in existence.

"Look alive, kid! What are you, a statue?"

Cloud's face grew warm as he came out of his contemplation, and he smiled a nervous apology at the amused man. The man only shrugged and flicked his wrist again in that strange gesture, walking back to the stairwell and standing by the door expectantly. Blinking dumbly and standing there for a moment, Cloud soon followed after him.

"A little spacey, aren't you?" the man joked with a little snicker. Cloud looked down at his fingers, clasped around the handle of his bag, and shrugged to himself, fully aware that the man was in front of him and couldn't see it. The man continued on talking as if Cloud had actually been attempting to make decent conversation with him.

"Hate to break it to you, but you'll probably be seeing my handsome mug pretty often around and about this place." Again, he made that silly, amused little snicker. "So you might as well get used to me now. Just to warn you, I'll probably be trying to kick your little cadet ass whenever I can."

Cloud's immaculate blue eyes widened slightly, and he was surprised to find himself actually smiling. Despite what he had just said, Cloud had a feeling this man was more bark than bite.

"Hey, what's your name?" The man glanced back over his shoulder and blinked at Cloud, who averted his gaze and quickly dropped his smile.

"...Cloud." He said it quietly, vividly remembering Zack mocking him earlier. He had a feeling that this new man was even more prone to crack jokes on him, and was trying his best not to give him any opportunities to do so.

"Cloud?" The man was silenced for a moment, and then a smile was heard in his voice. "Man, were your parents high when they named you?"

Cloud only frowned slightly to himself, inwardly feeling defensive of what he thought was actually quite a nice name, but he didn't have the guts to come out and defend himself audibly. Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't heard that one before.

"Hey, don't take it so personally," the man sighed impatiently, not once looking back at Cloud as he led the blonde through a labyrinth of hallways.

Cloud didn't say anything.

"I'm Reno, by the way," the man suddenly offered, pausing to take a long yawn and startling the younger boy. Cloud almost ran into him, but restrained himself well, somehow knowing the consequences of bumping into the man weren't likely to be pleasant.

"Okay..."

"That's some damn great shit, ain't it?" He turned his lazy grin over to Cloud, who returned it with a small, polite smile.

"Yeah."

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

"WILL YOU FUCKING LISTEN TO ME! Your goddamn shit-brains were obviously not fucking paying attention, but I fuckin' told your 5-gil-whore ass that I AIN'T SENDING THAT DAMN SHIT-SKINNY KID BACK THERE!"

Almost startled into shock, Cloud stood a very generous and safe distance away from Reno, who was bellowing insanely at the poor woman sitting by the computers. The woman looked equally as intimidated as Cloud was, and rightfully so; the red-haired man, silly as he looked with his unbuttoned shirt, was undeniably _scary_.

Perhaps, Cloud considered, he was just beginning to see just why Reno was a disciplinarian. He certainly wasn't easy to argue with, and, as admittedly primitive and brutish as his techniques were, they obviously worked.

Cloud wasn't sure whether to be scared of the hot-headed man or thankful that he was so stubborn. The dark-haired Zack that had helped Cloud before had obviously not considered much the conditions of the room he had shown him to, whereas this temperamental man obviously had some kind of reason that he didn't want to stick Cloud in that room.

"I-I'm sorry! There aren't any other free spots!" The woman squeaked, swallowing a lump in her throat and shaking slightly as Reno's sea-green eyes burned with his impressive temper.

"Do you have ANY fucking idea what kind of mess this damn kid'll get into if he's around those little shits? I ain't lettin' another kid get his brain fuckin' fried to hell because your fat ass can't find ONE FUCKING ROOM."

The woman opened her mouth slowly, but winced when Reno continued before she could speak.

"Fuck, I don't know! Just board him the hell in with some other new kids, they'll fucking live! I'm telling you, those little mofos ain't cool at all. You're gonna find your damn ass in the middle of another lawsuit if those shits get a hold on this kid, too."

"Wh-Wha-"

"GODDAMMIT, SUSAN! ...Yeah, I fuckin' know your name ain't Susan, and you'll fucking deal- Oh, what-the-fuck-ever! You want I should go over the damn shit-details of that case again? Wasn't pretty for our fuck friends at Shin-Ra, or don't you-"

"Reno!"

Cloud, who had, up until that point, actually been taking some kind of sick amusement from the red-haired man making a bit of a fool out of himself with the endless drabble, turned toward the man who had managed to stop Reno from yelling.

"Man, Zack!" Reno sighed loudly and threw his arms up in aggravation. "You won't fucking believe they're trying to put this new kid in with-"

"I know, mate," Zack scratched his head with a little laugh, coming further into the room. "Everyone could hear you from a mile and a half away."

"Ffth." Reno grunted and folded his arms, looking away. Cloud blinked, feeling as if someone needed to speak (but not him.)

"You just need to cool down, Reno," Zack laughed again, his well-shaped features twisting in a handsome grin. "Look at you. You sure do have a way with kids!" Zack chuckled this time, leaning over to brush his lips against the red-head's cheek.

Reno scowled furiously and shoved Zack away.

"Man!" Reno grunted angrily, and the dark-haired man laughed.

"Cute one, isn't he?" Zack turned, speaking to Cloud. The blonde blinked dumbly. "He's got a bit of a temper, but a nice ass!"

"Shut your whore-hole!" Reno growled, rolling his eyes and shrugging as if to dismiss the whole issue.

"Calm down, calm down," Zack repeated his words like a mantra, and suddenly, it struck Cloud just how ridiculous the entire situation was:

Very.

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

/cracks up at herself/ I'm sorry, but I love idiot-Reno. He's so cute when he's like this.

"5-Gil Whore..." (is actually a few of my friends' nickname for me...but not for reasons you might think o.o)

O.o Zack/Reno.../snorts/ Not something I might have done normally, but since I was using Reno in here, I just saw the golden opportunity to put in a little side-romance. Don't worry, this is still a SC story, and we'll have Sepiroth join us in due time. For now, though, I'm just pacing myself.

Also, I don't have a beta (I never have o.o) because I usually proof-read all my stuff a bout a zillion times, but this time I didn't feel like it. So, this is honestly and truly rough-draft one, and so I apologize for icky grammar.

Review please! o.O


	3. Beautiful Friendship

Woo-hoo! I like not being on a schedule. Sorry about slow updates. laughs And, I apologize for fouling up Reno's mouth so much. I guess I didn't realize it at the time, but, damn, he's a potty-mouth. Anyway...I was debating some things about Cloud's earlier experience here, and how I wanted to go about it...I decided that he at least needed something of a friend, but definitely not Zack, Reno, or anyone like that...and, of course, not Sepiroth...and I really, really hate OCs that are given overly large roles...so, I managed to come up with a sort-of friend, and he is...

...Oh, you'll see. /Devious grin/

The Unwanted, The Unattainable

Chapter 3

"_**T**here is a fatality about all physical and intellectual distinction...The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat."_

- Oscar Wilde; The Picture of Dorian Gray

Sometimes, a daydream could lift him and carry him off for miles. He would watch for hours, chin in his hands, as the breeze would ruffle affectionately in the greenest of leaves, raise up warm, hazy clouds of golden dirt, and turn its welcoming caress on his face with a drifting sensation as it drew out his most impossible and sweetest fantasies. The soft whisper of winds would leisurely pull his conscience past the mountains so near to his window and scatter his soul in places he'd only met in dreams, white petals falling on a distant lake.

And when he wasn't daydreaming, he'd nap to the sound of a guitar and an unpolished voice in the wavering shade of the willow tree. He didn't have any friends; he was excused often – though they were all polite lies – as far too soft to be part of any group of boys, and, when it came down to it, had one too many chromosomes to play with the girls. He got used to it, though; he realized a surprising romanticism in being alone so often, and soon was able to brush off how everyone treated him like a highly infectious disease and preferred to ignore his existence.

There were two who didn't, however; his fair-haired mother, who was somewhat of an outcaste, being the most obvious. The other, also an outcaste, was a blind man who always sat beneath that willow tree with his guitar, singing about everything and nothing at the same time.

That summer afternoon, the afternoon they'd met, the weather as agreeable, as always, as Cloud, lost for something to do, heard a gentle tune from the willow tree not too far from the village.

"What shall I, frail man, be pleading?" The man sang, not noticing as the young blonde approached silently and sat in the shade across from him. "Who for me be interceding... ...when the just are mercy needing?"

The guitar had difficulties producing sound from being so old and worn, but the man's slow, eased strumming created a marvelous, unique, and strangely heartbreaking beauty.

"What a sight for a sore soul." The guitar quieted for a moment and Cloud watched curiously as the man faced him with those clouded, unfocused blind-man's eyes.

"Why yes, I can see you, boy." The man spoke, bemused. "Not through these human eyes, but the Lady Planet shows me your face. She also tells me I mustn't ask why you have come here alone. She finds me terribly impolite."

The man chuckled quietly, strumming a single chord on his guitar. "But you couldn't mind; you will leave my company soon. Lady Planet affectionately calls me 'Wick,' if you should know, and you may call me that, as well; I am, after all, only the sustenance of that short-lived flame, and have proven myself the shortest-lived diversion alive so far. Much like a wick on a candle, and for that burning moment...this is mine, for you, and the Lady urges me to thank you for your indulgence. Now, tell me, boy; what are you called?"

"Cloud," was the whispered response.

The man grinned, his blind eyes unnervingly still as he did so. "It is a fitting name."

"Oh?" Cloud leaned forward, resting his chin on his knees and feeling strangely at ease with the blind man before him.

"Cloud..." The man started strumming again, getting a look on his face of vague concentration as he leaned his head back. He started to sing. "...Planet saw his eyes of blue... ...so 'clouded' with contempt; I knew... ...his loneliness was ever true..."

The blonde regarded Wick silently, trying to comprehend the meaning of those words as the man sang on:

"But when the wall on Cloud's heart fails... ...and then follows love's bitter trails... ...the loneliness, someday, curtails..."

It was a moment when Cloud knew that this man, however shunned by society as he was, was someone that, because of that very fact, could see straight into his soul. Whether it was really the "Lady Planet," as he claimed, Cloud wasn't quite sure, but he knew, at least, that there was a strangely sentimental connection between them. It was almost a romantic moment, one that would have been perfectly chronicled like a scene in a foreign film.

The man had gone on to sing about the bowel movements of hummingbirds.

-o-o-o-

Cloud was a nostalgic boy, and though there wasn't immediately anything that he should have been nostalgic for, he felt that those bittersweet days were yet the most beautiful moments his life would ever see. When he thought back to Wick, the abandonment of that life for the betterment of his body and to prove himself in society...

...suddenly, didn't seem so appealing a prospect.

He'd never said 'good-bye' to Wick when he'd left his hometown, hadn't even mentioned that he was thinking of leaving. He'd wanted to keep those times closer to his mind than any memory of a farewell. The many songs that had shared their company on those windswept summer afternoons would stay as memories just beyond their reach, and perhaps he would be able to keep those times just a bit closer to reality if he had no 'farewell' to finalize that they were long gone.

Cloud also came to realize that, however absurdly different Wick's songs were from the songs that were presently ringing in his ears, the latter still reminded him of home.

"I'm the color of blood that flows in a machine!" It was an ear-splitting hyena screech at best. "...Mako green, _mako_ _green_...!"

Cloud's gaze nervously stole to the side at his new roommate. After some petty trifling between the fiery 'disciplinarian' Reno and just about anyone else who had the guts to reason with him, they had finally been pushed enough to realize that one of the new recruits had lost his nerve and fled from the camp with all his things, leaving one very convenient opening for Cloud.

Unfortunately, his roommate was not quite so convenient.

"Lost my SOLDIER in a mako dream!" The young man threw his head passionately and continued his abysmal singing, "...Hear his scream, _hear his scream_...!"

Indeed, he was neither as insightful nor as introspective as Wick. Standing awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to say or do, Cloud just watched as the much taller, skinny, dark-haired boy threw himself about in a frenzied song. Eventually, he decided it might do to close the door to at least save the hallway's passer-bys from the stomach-turning singing, and this apparently saved him as well; the boy finally noticed him and stopped singing, staring in wonder.

"Yo?" The young man watched him expectantly, his word coming out as more of a question than a greeting. Cloud glanced around anxiously for lack of anything better to do, and his gaze flickered over near the other boy instead of actually looking at him.

"...Hello?" The boy asked louder, stepping forward a foot, which was a considerable distance in one of the barracks' tiny rooms. Cloud suppressed a flinch and forced himself to look up. 'This is my chance,' he told himself, 'for a new beginning.'

"...Uh, yeah – I mean – hi." Cloud considered smiling but decided it might not be the best impression, considering the situation. Besides, while smiling was normally seen as a benign gesture, his experience with that had never been quite so friendly. He kept his face straight, thus, because; he at least knew there was a reason – though he didn't know it – that his smiles had been so repulsive to everyone.

"Are you my new bunkmate?" The boy shifted and folded his arms impassively. Cloud also shifted, but less out of boredom and more out of discomfort. He almost nodded, but his overactive self-consciousness red-flagged him before he did. Instead, he tightened his face in a way he assumed – rather, hoped – looked confident and dutiful. He waited a moment before speaking to be sure he wouldn't stutter.

"...Yes." He stopped himself before his face could fall in relief, and he ended up looking somewhat awkward. At least, that was what he imagined himself to look like; it could have just been his self-confidence – or lack thereof – speaking,

"Oh...okay." The dark-eyed boy stared at him, looking half disinterested and half contemplative. Cloud kept his gaze away from the boy's, instead focusing on the brownish-tan skin where it met his curly black hairline. The boy sniffed. "Hey, it doesn't matter," he finally said. "As long as you don't bother me or my friends, and stay outta my stuff." He donned a waiflike grin. "Name's Garth."

Before Cloud could even reply, the dark-haired young man turned his back and started tinkering with a long, black case of some sort. Frowning boyishly, Cloud slowly set his bag down by the empty bunk and blinked dumbly before lowering himself onto the stiff bedding.

It didn't seem so bad, though he had to wonder what Garth meant by "friends;" as far as he knew, inter- and intra-lodging socialization had been prohibited. Perhaps, he then realized, he was only being naïve for thinking that everyone followed rules in this camp.

Give a teenaged boy a rule written in glass, and watch the sledgehammers fly.

Cloud watched silently as the older boy self-righteously ignored his presence and sat back on the bunk across from the blonde. He sat a worn-out guitar on his knee and hummed along to a few chords before looking up and catching Cloud staring. The shy-eyed boy stiffened his lips and glanced away immediately, feigning innocence, though it was already too obvious he'd been looking.

"Yo..." Garth started, looking vaguely amused, "...you're a new cadet, right?"

"Mmm," Cloud hummed 'yes' and nodded his head once. Garth's amusement seemed to grow just slightly, and the dark-eyed boy lifted an eyebrow quickly before dropping it again. Cloud was curious, but only for a moment.

"Do you know your meal schedule?" The question seemed a little out-of-the-blue, but then Cloud realized what the boy was implying. He tilted his head slightly, 'no.'

"Okay then," Garth said, as if there was something obvious that Cloud was missing. "I think you might want to head down there now."

"Oh." Cloud hesitated for a moment, feeling awkward again. Not knowing exactly what to do, he just did the simplest, hardest-to-botch thing he could thing of: he got up, nodded 'thanks' to Garth, and headed out the door.

The hallways were, thankfully, quite simply arranged and easy to get around in. While they were narrow, they were straightforward and their organized block-arrangement made up for any stifled feelings of claustrophobia that Cloud might have felt otherwise. There were even mythril-plated signs on the walls that offered direction to the weak-minded.

His fierce pride disallowing him to use the signs, it took Cloud a few minutes to find the mess hall where he'd been earlier. The tall, thoroughly rusted doors stood mildly imposing before him as he considered what may or may not have been happening on the opposite them. Mostly, he was shied by the fact that it was oddly quiet on the other side, save for the unmistakable sound of clinking utensils and young bodies occasionally shifting in their seats.

Had it been a full, loud, busy hall, Cloud would have felt much better about his situation. A quiet hall where any sound other than eating and shuffling immediately drew everyone's attention wasn't anywhere near as easy to enter. Tentatively, Cloud approached the door, before he was stopped by a boy's low hiss.

"No, stop!" This boy, looking to be no older than 12 years, came out of who-knows-where and tugged Cloud back before his hand could reach the door. Cloud stared at the younger boy, gentle face tightened by a startled expression. The boy frowned back, looking surprisingly condescending, and dragged them behind an adjacent wall.

"What're you, stupid? You can't go in there now." Despite his younger age and a voice pitch higher than Cloud's, the boy had an intimidating air about him. Cloud continued to stare at him as he peeked into the next room through a wall vent. His hair was the exact same blonde colour as Cloud's, but shorter and better-kept, brushed back and shaped to his head as if someone else had decided the style for him. The blonde boy had a youthful, round face and a small, feminine nose. He might have even looked sweet, but his blue eyes – the same blue as Cloud's – and thin lips held such a strong severity that the boy came across as downright unapproachable. The boy turned and looked at Cloud.

"Come on," he ordered, and noticed what was either confusion or hesitation on Cloud's face, "...and you'll be sorry if you don't do what I say!" The strict matter-of-factness of his statement made Cloud somewhat scared, and he was far too intimidated by this younger boy to even consider doubting him. Without a word, Cloud followed the other blonde out through many hallways.

When they reached a secured door that read, "Authorized Personnel Only," Cloud was ready to turn back and call it a night, but the younger boy went straight up to it, pushed an absurdly long sequence into the keypad, and dragged Cloud through the opened metal door. Cloud stared at the boy and the door in amazement, only just beginning to wonder just who he was associating with.

The boy led him up a long, narrow flight of stairs until they came to a long row of doors, and they went into the second door. Instruments and security screens with views of indistinctive spots in the building took up most of the space in the nearly dark room. The boy touched a finger to his thin lips and gave Cloud a glance, warning him to remain silent. He then pushed open another, smaller door and crawled into a crevice in the side wall.

Cloud followed reluctantly, crawling up beside the boy and looking down from where he sat. They were nearly at the top of a huge, extremely deep library. It was round and went down almost farther than Cloud's eyes could see. The walls entertained various platforms and ladders and, frankly, made him feel like he would tip over and fall down any moment. Breaking his stupor, the boy hissed quietly to himself, hopping onto the first platform and beginning his descent. Cloud followed him down until they stopped halfway.

"Uhm..." he mumbled meekly, touching the boy's shoulder. The boy glanced at him.

"What?" he whispered impatiently. Cloud shrugged slowly and gently cleared his throat.

"What...are we doing?" He asked. The boy huffed, barely annoyed, and turned to stare down the centre of the tall room.

Cloud's gaze followed and he stopped moving for a moment; his breath then jumped straight out of his lungs when he saw who was sitting at the bottom, reading silently to himself:

Sepiroth.

He looked over anxiously and noticed the younger boy's eyes shining in determination. Confused, Cloud sighed and stared down at the crown of the extremely fair-haired general.

"Do you know who that is, or are you even stupider than you look?" The boy glanced at him with a not-quite-there smirk. Cloud didn't necessarily mind the insulting and patronizing tone the boy was taking with him. In fact, in a twisted way, it was comforting; it reminded him of home.

"...I know him."

"Of course you do." The other blonde boy smirked again, strongly this time. "I bet he's your idol, too. All you stupid teenagers and your stupid hero worship." His voice took on a cruel tone and his thin brows furrowed in something of annoyance. Cloud lifted his brows innocently, but was far from brave enough to reply to that comment.

"Sepiroth...he'll be done in someday...soon." The corners of the boy's eyes turned up as he smiled maliciously. Cloud stared at him, eyes wide.

"What?" He asked with stifled concern. Unfortunately, Cloud was a boy who was far too easily convinced of things, and that sometimes led his logical reasoning to be fogged over.

"Hey, just shut up," the boy breathed, obviously lacking any sense of discretion. Cloud shrugged half-heartedly and tried to keep his breathing – and body – steady as the other blonde hopped down toward the ground floor.

Cloud stopped following the boy at only a few metres above the ground, crouched behind a large pile of books. His gaze followed the other blonde as the boy silently slipped down and snuck up near Sepiroth's back, brandishing some kind of short throwing knife.

Cloud's head was throbbing with the unnecessary adrenaline, eyes following the slow, stealthily moving figure of the other boy as it neared the general. Suddenly, Cloud felt a flurry of anxieties pile up on his mind as he considered what, however unlikely, might be going on.

The boy didn't look about to throw the knife, though; he was holding it as if to stab. He crept with agonizing slowness and drew his hand back, poised to hit. The synthetic candlelight cast a low glow and was making Sepiroth's hair a soft yellow colour, barely showing up in the reflection of the finely polished knife.

Cloud wondered if he should have fled and considered doing so at that point. He realized, however, that his gaze would not tear away from the frighteningly strange boy and pristine general. He winced as the boy's hand – and the knife – flew down at Sepiroth...

...and, in a blur of shadows and silver, was caught in a sturdy hand before it could make contact.

"Rufus...what a pleasant surprise." Sepiroth remarked coolly, his book set neatly on the table and his built hand gripping the blonde boy's slender wrist. The general's thin, handsome lips quirked up in a dry, humourless smile as the boy snarled menacingly at him.

"Rghh!" The boy, Rufus, tugged his wrist back furiously but could not move it from Sepiroth's fierce grip. The man's grip tightened and the boy's fingers lost a little colour, slowly uncurling and letting the knife fall harmlessly to the floor, glinting reproachfully under the dim light before letting out a loud clang against the marble tile.

"Let go!" The boy whined angrily. "Rrr...let go!" He tugged harder and Sepiroth lifted a brow, surveying him silently, and then he turned to look directly at the stack of books behind which Cloud was kneeling.

"Don't feel the need to hide," he remarked dryly. It took a few moments, but when Cloud realized that the fierce general was addressing him, he whispered a meek 'oh' and stood up perhaps a bit too quickly, slipping on an open book and falling down against the side of the stack. Two or three books were thrown in a low arc and tumbled onto the stairs, and one particularly large encyclopedia came off a stack and onto the back of his head as he went forward.

He squinted and smiled weakly despite himself. Rubbing his head with a chagrined blush, he stole a glance upward and saw the other two staring at him: Sepiroth with barely concealed confusion, and Rufus with complete irritation.

"Sorry," was the first thing he said on instinct, but neither of the others seemed to pay him much mind. The general and the boy's attention had returned to one another as Sepiroth stared down, fiery aqua-green eyes set in an impassive stare to volley Rufus' stormy, boyish scowl.

"Let go!" The boy insisted again after a small silence, tugging his wrist again. "Let go, let go, letgoletgo!" His voice had risen to an irate screech, and he seemed not to have noticed – or cared – that Sepiroth's grip was getting no looser, and his resolve was growing no weaker.

"As much as I enjoy our conversations, I won't have time or patience for this sort of foolishness again," Sepiroth stated matter-of-factly, only succeeding in irking the struggling blonde further. "Now you have a playmate, so you can have your little game of 'Guerilla Warfare' with him."

Ignoring the enraged hiss that the boy ground out, Sepiroth curtly released his wrist and strode out of the room, promptly taking the respect-demanding air away and leaving only the bitter feeling of an awkward defeat.

"Asshole!" Rufus yelled after him, but Cloud had a feeling that if Sepiroth heard the comment – which was likely, as shown from his remarkable hearing – he wouldn't have cared.

The younger boy then turned to glare at Cloud. Rufus' blue eyes, which might have even looked very pleasant on other terms, were ablaze with permanent annoyance as he shot figurative daggers at Cloud for his lack of participation.

"We'll get him," the young boy spoke in a low, tenacious voice. "Someday, we'll get him!"

The moment the young Rufus' sharp stare met Cloud's meek one, he knew there would be no getting out and no getting away. Judging by his words, the other blonde intended for Cloud to stay, and, even had Cloud been brave enough to, he wouldn't have known how to disentangle himself from his situation.

Cloud sighed inwardly and only blinked his tired acknowledgement at Rufus. With vague, sarcastic amusement, Cloud thought to himself on how this sort of situation might have constituted one of them saying something about "the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Hey, move it!" Rufus kicked his shin and gestured Cloud to leave the library behind him. "Are you always this spacey?"

Cloud shrugged apologetically and followed the loud, demanding boy out and to gods-know-where-else. Perhaps it wasn't a "beautiful" friendship, but...at least it was something.

Never mind that a certain something had "bad news" written all over it.

-o-o-o-

sigh Well, that's all for now...sorry it's so crappy. Xx I was...omg. I'm too tired to even finish this A/N without sounded totally retarded. yawn Goodnight...

(Hey. It's morning now. I wrote the last half of this story at 2 am while being very tired, and that usually is the time that I start writing really WEIRD. So don't mind it, please. I'll write the next one faster – and when I'm fully awake. xD)


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